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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28980339">Nightingale</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunovolleygays/pseuds/karasunovolleygays'>karasunovolleygays</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Valentine's Kisses 2021 [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boys Are Dumb, Implied Naughtytimes, M/M, Mutual Pining with a Side Order of Stupid, Post-Timeskip</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:47:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,224</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28980339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunovolleygays/pseuds/karasunovolleygays</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A niggling injury gave Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer a chance to consider some old lingering feelings for his patient.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iwaizumi Hajime/Ushijima Wakatoshi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Valentine's Kisses 2021 [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Nightingale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadehqknb/gifts">jadehqknb</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Kiss prompt: ripping the other away - “no we shouldn’t” - but when they kiss them again they moan and hold them close</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>No matter how many times or how long he watched it, the sheer combative force of the Japanese Olympic Volleyball squad never ceased to amaze Iwaizumi Hajime.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t just power or speed or game sense; it was how each one of those compiled together from its various players to form an almost untouchable dynamic. It reminded him of the way they had played at Seijou, only at a significantly higher level.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi was a trainer, not a player, but it didn’t diminish the pride that radiated from him when he watched the team play.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spiking drills started, and Iwaizumi’s attention honed in on one hitter in particular. Nobody told him running into an old rival on the other side of the world would change his life, and Iwaiizumi wouldn’t have believed them if they had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Where competitiveness and a touch of jealousy had dwelt when they were young and stupid high schoolers, bald admiration had taken its place. Ushijima Wakatoshi was a specimen of power, athleticism, and drive. He worked hard, played hard, and Iwaizumi fell hard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t easy crushing on someone who barely knew he existed, especially when they were actual damn adults and not untried teenage boys, but Iwaizumi was stuck in that rut nonetheless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps it was the extra attention he paid Ushijima because of that, or maybe it was professional instinct, but the moment Ushijima landed from his most recent spike, Iwaizumi jogged onto the court to investigate. He was en route before the rest of the team noticed Ushijima wince as he walked away from the net.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hold up,” Iwaizumi ordered, and Ushijima froze. “Let me check it out. Knee?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima nodded, and Iwaizumi knelt to probe the bone and muscle obscured by knee pads. The skin was already beginning to feel hot to the touch, drawing a frown from Iwaizumi that Ushijima soon mimicked. “Is something torn?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not sure yet.” Iwaizumi scanned the area visually once more before he stood. “Come on in my office and I’ll take a closer look. Don’t walk any faster than an easy waddle or I’ll brain you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima chuckled at the empty threat. “All right. I’ll be there in two to three weeks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi guffawed and clapped Ushijima on his bicep. “Now that’s what I like to hear.” With that, he sped ahead into the training room to assemble the tools he would need for a potentially pulled muscle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon after, Ushijima arrived, leaning heavily against the wall to favor his pained leg, and Iwaizumi ducked under his shoulder to help him finish the last few steps. “All right, Jumbo. On the table.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Ushijima was seated on the exam table, Iwaizumi grabbed the ultrasound wand and shot Ushijima a wry smile. “The gel is cold and gross, so don’t kick the messenger, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” Ushijima’s eyes were fixed on the device while Iwaizumi examined his musculature. His nose wrinkled as the blue gel touched his skin, but his leg didn’t flinch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi breathed a sigh of relief at that. The concept never would have crossed his mind if not for Miya Atsumu’s reflexive distaste for slimy wet stuff, earning Iwaizumi a bruise on his chin and a few risen hackles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Relief quickly turned into concern as Iwaizumi watched the exam results over again. “Damn.” Ushijima’s jaw clenched, and he glared at the far wall while Iwaizumi cleaned up his skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Iwaizumi said, hoisting himself to his feet, “do you want the good news or the bad news first?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bad news.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi sighed and shook his head. “There’s some microtearing in the fibular collateral ligament, so you’re going to have to stay off of it for at least two weeks, and then there’s the always charming immobilizer that goes with it.” Ushijima’s eyes closed, and he sighed heavily. Iwaizumi didn’t blame him one bit. “The good news is that it could have been a lot worse. A few degrees off when your foot landed beneath you meant the difference between couch arrest and surgery.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see,” Ushijima says flatly. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While Iwaizumi wrapped Ushijima’s knee with cold compresses, he said, “Consider yourself lucky. Usually knee stuff ends up being a lot worse.” He prodded Ushijima until he laid back on the exam table. “Now stay there and let the cold do its thing for a while. Then I’ll show you how to take care of it. I’ll go tell Coach you’re gonna be grounded for a while.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like Iwaizumi, Coach Hibarida was relieved that the damage was light. “The hard part isn’t doing without him,” Hibarida said. “The hard part is making him stay put for that long. I don’t think that young man has slowed down a day in his life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No kidding,” Iwaizumi agreed. “I plan on haunting his ass to make sure he does.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hibarida patted Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “You are a gem, Hajime-kun. It’s amazing how we managed to find the only trainer in Japan all these guys are collectively afraid to cross.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi chuckled while he headed back to his patient. Inside, Ushijima was dutifully draped on the table, though his fingers twitched all the while. “Good, you didn’t try to escape.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima raised a brow. “That seems like a foolish thing to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Agreed.” Iwaizumi dropped onto the stool next to the exam table and leaned on its surface with a roll of his eyes. “You’d be surprised how many guys think they can’t get their ass kicked by a tiny little clump of muscles and end up making it worse.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima sat patiently while Iwaizumi inspected the injury once again. “The swelling isn’t so bad. When you get home, you need to ice it once every couple of hours. For now, let’s get the immobilizer on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Step by step, Iwaizumi walked through the steps, and in no time, Ushijima was trying not to scratch under the bulky thing. “This is unpleasant,” Ushijima said, strangling the hem of his t-shirt to keep from itching. “Is this normal?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unfortunately.” Iwaizumi fished out a set of crutches and adjusted them as far as they would go to accommodate Ushijima’s towering height. “C’mon. Practice is about over. I’ll give you a ride back to the hotel.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After stopping Ushijima from taking the stairs to his fourth floor room like he usually did, Iwaizumi bullied his charge onto the bed and crammed as many reusable ice packs as he could into the minifridge. Ushijima watched wide-eyed as Iwaizumi hauled the entire unit onto a nearby armchair and dragged it close to the bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, so if you want this thing to heal as quickly as possible,  you shouldn’t be getting up for anything but food and the bathroom for the first week.” Iwaizumi rattled off the rest of the restrictions to an increasingly weary Ushijima. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time he was finished, Ushijima sagged into the bed with his eyes closed. “I dislike this very much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So do I, Waka.” Iwaizumi sat next to Ushijima on the bed and offered a pinched smile. “You know I wouldn’t make you do this unless it was absolutely necessary. I know how much you hate to be stagnant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi glanced around the room, smile widening when he spotted his quarry. “Aha.” He fetched a stack of manga volumes stacked next to the coffee pot and set them down on Ushijima’s nightstand. “I know you’ve read all these, but I assume you wouldn’t bring them with you unless you wanted to read them again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima nodded, and some of the defeat leached out of his frame. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want me to stay for dinner? I know you’re gonna be hella bored after the first ten minutes.” Ushijima nodded. “Cool. I’ll head back to my room and change, and I’ll hang out for the rest of the evening.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Iwaizumi returned with Ushijima’s room card, his charge still lay sprawled on his bed, taking in a mindless game show. “Wouldn’t have thought of you as a game show person, but this one’s pretty good anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi sat on the edge of Ushijima’s bed and watched along. When the commercial break arrived, he asked, “So, what do  you want to order in?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I already ordered,” Ushijima said. He handed over a paper menu from a nearby yakiniku place from his nightstand. “I assume a pile of meat is acceptable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hell yeah.” Iwaizumi noticed Ushijima scooting sideways, closer to the opposite side of the bed. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have cooties.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima raised a brow. “I was giving you room so you could sit back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Cheeks warming, Iwaizumi did just that, his bicep resting up against Ushijima’s. “Thanks for dinner. I’ll get the next one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their meal arrived half an hour later, and they devoured it in silence. Iwaizumi didn’t mind talking during meals, but Ushijima took time to appreciate every bite. It wasn’t until they polished off a massive trough of grilled meat that Ushijima interrupted the quiet. “I’m afraid I’m not very good company.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bullshit.” Iwaizumi slapped Ushijima on the thigh and rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to entertain me. I’m just here to hang out and keep you company.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Scratching his temple, Ushijima’s lips pursed into a thin line. “I don’t know what the difference is, but all right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, Iwaizumi tidied up after dinner while Ushijima perused one of his manga books. About an hour after the next round of ice packs, Ushijima began to nod off, so Iwaizumi called it a night. “Let me know if you need anything.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima nodded mid-yawn. “Good night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You too.” By the time he gathered up his discarded warm-ups, Ushijima was already out. Iwaizumi let himself out, but he jogged a few laps up and down the nearest flight of stairs to work off some of the tension knotting in his belly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the roof, he leaned to look over the railing and muttered, “Damn it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds like you had a bad day,” called a voice behind him, and Iwaizumi spied Ojiro Aran coming his way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You could say that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ojiro parked against the rail next to Iwaizumi and stared out at the dull glow of Tokyo after dark. “Is Ushijima all right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi hummed. “Laid up for a couple of weeks, but nothing too serious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Brow raised, Ojiro said, “Then your day can’t be all that bad. Knee stuff is tricky.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re preaching to the choir, dude.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes as he tallied the sheer number of players he had encountered who didn’t take care of their knees — starting with his best friend. “My bad mood doesn’t have anything to do with Ushijima’s injury.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ojiro’s gaze slid over and fastened to Iwaizumi, lingering long enough to see all the way through Iwaizumi. “Interesting choice of words. You said ‘nothing to do with Ushijima’s injury’, not ‘nothing to do with Ushijima’. I know he’s not exactly the easiest guy to get along with, but you two always seemed pretty tight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The urge to confide in Ojiro was almost overwhelming. Of all the guys on the team, Ojiro was definitely the most level-headed and thoughtful. Iwaizumi doubted Ojiro would be weird about him liking another man, nor would he broadcast that information all over town.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To hell with it. “Yeah, my problem is definitely Ushijima-flavored.” Iwaizumi crossed his arms on the rail and rested his chin. “You see, I have this, uh . . . I, uh —” With a long groan, he said, “I have a crush on Ushijima, but he’s never gonna feel that way about me and I don’t know what to do about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ojiro stared at Iwaizumi, making him shrink into himself. He was about to beg Ojiro to say something — anything — but the last thing he expected with laughter. “Are you serious?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi glowered. “I fail to see how this is funny.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry.” Ojiro swallowed his mirth and gave Iwaizumi a tight smile. “I’m not making fun of your crush. I’m amused by the idea that you don’t think Ushijima would be into you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eyes wide, Iwaizumi had to force himself to blink as he took in that information. “Are you nuts? What the hell makes you think he’s remotely interested?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re kidding, right?” Iwaizumi didn’t flinch, and Ojiro harrumphed. “Okay, so you’re not kidding.” Raking his hands down his face, Ojiro sighed. “Haven’t you ever watched him watch other people?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At Iwaizumi’s blank stare, he said, “Most of the time when Ushijima watches other people, volleyball is what he sees. He looks at Bokuto, and he sees volleyball. He looks at Atsumu, and he sees an </span>
  <em>
    <span>annoying</span>
  </em>
  <span> volleyball player.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the only person he pays attention to when there’s no volleyball involved.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Static filled Iwaizumi’s ears. Someone he trusted to not be an idiot had just dropped an observational bombshell, and Iwaizumi didn’t know whether to laugh or puke. He kept side-eyeing Ojiro to see if there was a punchline in store, but that warm and earnest gaze didn’t waver. He looked away. “I don’t even know how to answer that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ojiro shrugged. “My best suggestion is to tell him and see where it goes. Even if he has some magnificent resting bitch face, he’s a good guy, and he’s not the type to be weird to you even if he didn’t feel the same.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah, I think I can do that.” Iwaizumi drifted away from the rail and waved to Ojiro as he walked backwards toward the stairwell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the other side of the door, Iwaizumi leaned against it and groaned. “I must be nuts.” He jogged down the stairs to the fourth floor once again, and before he could change his mind, he knocked on the door before opening it. “Waka?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come in.” Iwaizumi entered to find Ushijima sitting upright on his bed, shirtless while he did arm curls with the dumbbells Ushijima never traveled without. Ushijima put the weights down and raised a brow. “I thought you were heading to bed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi guffawed. “I could say the same for you. You were half passed out when I left.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima averted his gaze. “I had something on my mind, so I decided to try sweating it out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it working?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not particularly.” Ushijima stowed the weights in the nightstand drawer and draped himself against the headboard. “Did you forget something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Yes. Sort of.” Iwaizumi buried his face in his hands and sighed. “I don’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mouth twisted into a confused frown, Ushijima stared at Iwaizumi. “I’m sure one of those is the answer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi barked a laugh. “When you’re right, you’re right.” Settling on the edge of the bed, he busied himself with examining Ushijima’s knee. Better that than get caught staring at that tight, muscled torso. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is something wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. It’s just —” Taking a deep breath, Iwaizumi slapped both of his cheeks and hissed, “Jesus, this is embarrassing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked over at a stymied Ushijima. “I’m not here because of your knee. You’re taking care of it and that’s that.” Iwaizumi’s hand drifted up to tug on the hair at the nape of his neck. “This is a, um, personal call.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima’s expression was leaden, not flinching at Iwaizumi’s statement, and the sight shot a shiver down his spine. It didn’t matter. He had come to say his piece, and he was going to do it whether he liked it or not. He doubted his legs would let him leave anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like you,” he blurted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” Ushijima’s face slipped into a wry smile. “This is the embarrassing part, where I say I have no idea what that means.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi snorted, covering his mouth to stifle the noise but not fast enough. The sound devolved into a giggle that smacked more of hysteria than hilarity. “Oh geez.” He scooted closer to Ushijima, and he forced himself not to look away when he said, “I like you in that ‘more than just friends’ way. LIke </span>
  <em>
    <span>that.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The dating kind. You know, the —”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I’ve got the picture.” Ushijima’s arms wrapped around his middle, his eyes closing. “Thank you for telling me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I, uh . . . yeah. No problem.” Iwaizumi’s brain screamed at the babble pouring out of his mouth, but the words didn’t come. No grandiose declaration, no flowery words, just moronic word vomit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi nearly fell off the bed when Ushijima’s hand reached out to cover his. “So, does that mean I should kiss you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?!” Even as his ears were still echoing with the words, the rest of Iwaizumi began to creep closer in anticipation. Finally, the blabber caught up. “I mean, not directly. I’m not in the business of telling you who you can and can’t kiss. That’s up to you if you want to —”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words melted along with the rest of Iwaizumi when Ushijima hauled him onto his lap and pressed their mouths together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the time lapsed between when he had left Ojiro on the roof and this moment, at no point did Iwaizumi expect to be sitting on Ushijima’s lap with hands the size of frying pans firmly gripping his ass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi tore away from the kiss. “Wait, this is nuts. Shouldn’t we wait to make sure you —”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, we shouldn’t. I’ve been sure for a long time.” Ushijima’s nose nudged the bottom of Iwaizumi’s chin, exposing a soft stretch of flesh for his lips to caress. “I never knew you felt the same,” he whispered between feathered kisses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi’s head lolled back and he groaned. His breath came in short, shallow bursts, and each touch made him tremble. “I've wanted to climb you like a tree since we were nineteen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima’s roving mouth paused, and he glanced back up at Iwaizumi’s heavy-lidded gaze. “For two generally sensible people, we are apparently clueless about certain things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Iwaizumi framed Ushijima’s face in his hands and leaned in for a long, smoldering kiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mid-kiss, a stray thought trickled into Iwaizumi’s head. He pursed his lips and eyed Ushijima. “So, uh, when you said you had something on your mind, does that mean —” He choked on the rest of the sentence when Ushijima’s cheeks burned bright red. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his eye, Iwaizumi noticed the bathroom door ajar, with a towel dropped at the foot off the shower. “Oh my god.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does that make you uncomfortable?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Did it? Iwaizumi hardly had the words for the cocktail of sensations coursing through him, but ‘uncomfortable’ was certainly not one of them. “Oh hell no.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, he crushed their lips together and clung to every inch of Ushijima’s golden, well-muscled torso he could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It appeared that they were both in for a restless evening, and Iwaizumi couldn’t think of a better way to spend a night.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>The Next Morning</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hair askew and eyes dark from little sleep, Iwaizumi padded to the hotel dining room clad in an undershirt and a pair of Ushijima’s pajama bottoms. From a table over in the corner, Ojiro’s conversation with Miya ground to an abrupt halt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iwaizumi didn’t even bother to hide the love bites that peppered his shoulders, and by the time he gathered up breakfast for both him and Ushijima, he commanded the attention of a few more familiar onlookers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something dangerously approaching a smirk donned Ojiro’s lips. Iwaizumi shot him a wink and sashayed back to the elevator to pick up where they left off.</span>
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